Page 15 of The Bratva's Hunted Bride
I step out of the room and lower my voice. “What is it? I’m in the middle of something.”
“You’ve been MIA for days now,“ she argues, “and we’ve been holding it together, but right now we really need you. Or Diomid is going to screw everything up.”
Raised voices in the background make my hackles rise. One of them is definitely Diomid, going off on someone. He’s areckless, impulsive liability, so I don’t need any more context to know that things are about to go south.
“Send me a pin,” I bark, hanging up.
This is not how I wanted the evening to go. I race upstairs and strap a pistol to my hip, then a knife to each thigh. Hopefully, it’s overkill.
“I’ll be back later,” I call to Talia.
She looks up from her seat on the floor, bags surrounding her. “What is it? Is it my brothers?”
Her fondness for her family is endearing, even if it makes my life more difficult. Those brothers are going to become a problem at some point, and it’d be best if I could quietly remove them from the situation.
“No,” I reply, hoping I’m not lying.
I hop into my car and race out of the driveway, double-checking that the house is secured from my phone. Locked tight. Talia should be safe.
It takes me twenty minutes to get to Valery’s pin, and I recognize the site as one of our warehouses while I’m still five minutes out. Valery’s right, I’ve been distracted by Talia, and this is a rude reminder of what can happen when my attention slips.
I pull into the lot and see Diomid getting in the face of a man I don’t recognize while Valery stands at his shoulder, trying to pull him back. Three other men back up the guy Diomid is facing, and while I don’t know their faces, I can tell from the telltale shapes at their sides that they’re all armed.
Diomid’s first punch lands as I step out of the car, and suddenly all hell breaks loose. Valery staggers backward. Thepunched man reels then recovers, swinging back with a punch of his own.
“Diomid!” I shout, racing over to the brawling men.
The others reach for their pistols, and I draw mine first, pointing it at them. They hesitate. Valery runs to my side as Diomid and the other man hit the ground.
“Took you long enough,” she says.
“Draw and I shoot,” I bellow at the men, placing myself between them and Valery. “What the fuck is going on here? Who are these guys?”
“A bunch of punks,” she says. “Shit, he’s got him pinned.”
I glance at the fight. Diomid is straddling the other man, pummeling his chest and head with heavy, thudding blows.
“Get your boy,” one of the others shouts, fingers inching toward the grip of his gun. “Or I’ll shoot him.”
“I’ll blow your fucking head off,” I promise the man, keeping my gun trained on them as I make my way over to Diomid. “Jesus Di, get off of him. He’s out.”
Diomid is too caught up in the moment, and it takes me kneeing him in the ribcage to stop his attack. He lands one final kick when he gets up, and the downed man doesn’t react. Hopefully, he’s just unconscious, but it’s hard to tell with the amount of blood on his swollen face.
“We’ve got company,” he says, wiping his bloody knuckles on his leg and looking over my shoulder.
A car pulls in. “Friends of yours?” I ask the men, but the question answers itself when two men step out. Jaroslav and Georgy Shevchenko. Just what we needed.
Jaroslav’s got a rifle slung over his shoulder, and he casually draws it, gesturing between the two groups. I bristle when he points it my way, fingers hugging the trigger of my pistol. Blowing the brains out of a Shevchenko wasn’t on my list for today, but I’d be more than happy to tack it on.
“What’s all this?” Georgy asks. “Aren’t you due for a shipment tonight?”
We might have a tentative ceasefire with these bastards thanks to our alliance with the Milovs, but I’m not comfortable with how much they know about our operation.
“Yeah, and it seems like these guys were tipped off about that,” Valery says, jerking her head toward the downed man.
“Don’t tell them shit,” I warn her. “We don’t need your help.”
Jaroslav whistles jauntily, still swinging his gun around. “Bit off more than you can chew here, boys. Why don’t you skedaddle?”
